


Catalyst.

by theweakestthing



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arguing, Domestic, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, set in some nebulous time during Bride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26165080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing
Summary: Dan finds a cat in an alleyway, of course he can't just leave it there and of course Herbert doesn't approve.
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Herbert West
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Catalyst.

Dan tried to ignore it, he really did, but his resolve had never been that strong. The tiny mewling rattled out of the alleyway and shot straight across Dan’s over-pulled heartstrings. It was raining too. Dan liked to believe that he was a particularly compassionate person, and he also liked to believe that it made him a better doctor, though Herbert often claimed that it was the opposite. It was so like Herbert to think of compassion as a detriment. Philosophical differences aside, Dan had never been able to ignore the cries of anyone, no matter their species.

The mewling continued as the raindrops splattered against the dumpster that sat in the far end of the alley. It made for a cacophonous symphony of sound. He was just coming back from the hardware store, on his way back to the car with Herbert’s chicken scratch list folded in his pocket and his hands laden with bags, when he’d heard it.

Herbert would object, of course, Dan knew that and yet he entered the alley anyway. He stalked down the alleyway and moved the bags into one hand. Following the mewling, Dan found a cardboard box against the side of the dumpster, there was a small black kitten shaking as it meowed in its soggy prison. The sight damn near broke Dan’s heart. He flicked his collar up against the rain before he crouched down and reached into the box.

He waited for the kitten to come to him, blocking the rain with his body as he watched the small and unsteady mound of black fur sniff at his fingers. It mewled again and bumped its face against Dan’s palm. He couldn’t have left the cat there even if he had wanted to, Dan didn’t have it in him. He could already hear Herbert calling him weak. With a careful hand, Dan scooped the kitten out of the box. He put the cat into the front pocket of his plaid shirt, underneath his coat, and made his way briskly out of the alley.

When he got to the car, he didn’t quite know what to do and dithered for a few moments before moving again. He dumped the bags in the back before going around the passenger side, he carefully shucked off his coat and swaddled the kitten in the fabric, and he drove home as cautiously as he could. The cat’s quiet mewling reminded him of when he’d first gotten Rufus.

Dan had gotten Rufus from a shelter. The woman who had shown him around was surprised when the supposedly erratic and volatile cat seemed instantly enamoured with Dan. She said that Rufus had picked him as the cat purred in his arms.

Later he had picked up a different kind of stray, that one had seemed to choose him too.

Over time Dan had begun to feel like his compassion might be at least a little bittersweet. Herbert’s addition to his life tainted things about him. He knew he couldn’t blame Herbert for the way his life had turned out, at least not entirely. Herbert had always been himself and had never pretended otherwise, and sure he would beg, plead and bargain with Dan whenever he would try to leave but it was his decision in the end. And so far Dan had stayed.

At first Dan had found Herbert astonishingly rude but unendingly interesting. The way he’d all but ignored Dan’s existence when they’d been introduced but had stared at him inquisitively as Dean Halsey and Dr. Hill spoke, how he’d just turned up on Dan’s doorstep in the middle of the night with the note he’d posted only a few hours earlier and swept through the place like he already lived there, he’d never seen anyone talk to or act with such disdain toward a teacher before and especially not someone like Dr. Hill, and that wasn’t even mentioning his obvious intellect. To put it bluntly, Herbert was unlike anyone that Dan had ever met.

In their first week of living together, Herbert had mostly kept to himself, and Dan had barely seen him the entire time. Dan had been the one to initiate conversation between them, but that was only when he actually saw his roommate. They met in passing in the kitchen, in the hall between their bedrooms and the bathroom, in the hospital and during and between classes. For the most part it felt like he was living alone. The only real difference was that Meg didn’t come over as much as she used to.

The night that everything changed Dan slept fitfully after mourning the loss of Rufus, his companion through a solid two years of med school. That night as Herbert no doubt found where Dan had buried the cat, dug it up and injected it with his reagent. Only a few minutes later would their lives change irrevocably. Dan’s opinion of Herbert didn’t change though, it just evolved. That night he’d seen Herbert completely and he hadn’t looked back since.

Well, he’d glanced back several times, but not with any real intent of turning back.

He was pretty sure that his compassion was going to be the death of him. At least his compassion for and loyalty to Herbert would be the death of him, they had both come far too close to it several times already. Death had scraped by them so many times, though one was more than enough, and it was bound to happen again. It wasn’t as though Dan had been able to get Herbert to stop so far. Then again he hadn’t exactly tried very hard either.

“Herbert,” Dan called as he set the bags down beside the door. He almost hoped that Herbert wouldn’t answer, he was considering smuggling the kitten into his bedroom as though there weren’t worse crimes being smuggled into the basement, and hide it from Herbert for as long as possible.

Those hopes were quashed when Herbert staggered out of the bathroom, hair still damp and skin flushed from the shower, Dan tried to keep his thoughts on track.

“Did you get everything?” Herbert asked, his tone was almost derisive, as he approached the bags by the door. If he were younger, if it were earlier in their relationship, Dan would have found it offensive but he had long since learnt that it was just how Herbert spoke. Though, he didn’t enjoy his competence being questioned.

“Yeah,” Dan sighed, the kitten squirmed in his hands and mewled as it stared up at him, straining to get down. Herbert stopped short before him, eyes blinking rapidly behind his glasses.

“And you brought a cat,” Herbert said, mostly an observation, though the disdain for Dan’s sentimentality was clear.

“I didn’t buy the cat,” Dan murmured, he often found himself mirroring Herbert’s own pedantry whenever they started arguing, he figured it had something to do with wanting to give Herbert a taste of his own medicine, though it was more likely born out of their over familiarity. “I found it in an alley, someone had left it in a box and it’s raining, I couldn’t just leave it out there to die,” he rationalised though he knew that appealing to emotion would not work on Herbert West, he didn’t even know why he was saying it besides an irrational need to explain himself.

Out of the two of them, it certainly wasn’t Dan who needed to explain himself, at least not to Herbert of all people.

“No, of course bleeding heart Doctor Dan couldn’t have just left the poor thing out there,” Herbert muttered condescendingly.

“What do you care anyway?” Dan shot back. Herbert had hit a nerve, a particularly raw nerve. “It’s worked pretty well in your favour hasn’t it? My so called bleeding heart has gotten you whatever the hell you want,” he continued, voice rising in volume as he went on.

“I’ve never forced you to do anything Daniel,” came Herbert’s automatic reply, it was the same thing he always said. No, he never had to force Dan to do anything, he was smarter than that.

Dan set the cat down on the floor, fearful of the way he was handling it given his shifting mood, before he spoke again.

“Oh, no, of course not, but you’ve never stopped yourself from appealing to my emotions,” Dan said, straightening up to stare back at Herbert. “My compassion has been damn useful for you,” he added as the kitten bumped its head against his foot.

“I may have, at times, had to convince you to do things you were only looking for the permission to do,” Herbert said, easily meeting Dan’s gaze, he had never been one to back down from any sort of confrontation. It would have been impressive, and it was, though Dan hated the reckless abandon and immovable stubbornness when it was directed at him. “But I was simply giving you that permission you were asking for,” he added, tilting his head up as he smirked at Dan.

Dan hated that smirk, he hated it as much as it thrilled him.

“I don’t remember asking you for anything,” Dan muttered, “I do remember you asking me for things, all the time,” he went on, gesturing to the bags still sat by the door as he stepped into Herbert’s space, careful not to step on the as yet unnamed kitten.

“It’s not your mouth that you use when you’re asking Dan,” Herbert returned, it was almost something, though Dan wondered if Herbert knew what he was insinuating.

He scrubbed his mind for something to say. Appealing to Herbert’s good nature wasn’t possible, he didn’t have one. Trying to point out how manipulative he was would just lead them in circles and that particular argument was tiresome. He could threaten to leave, again, and watch Herbert scramble to appease him in whatever twisted and gut wrenching way he could devise.

“Whatever,” Dan huffed and stepped back, he ran a hand through his hair as he bent to capture the kitten from the floor and made his way into the kitchen.

Dan didn’t know why he was looking for permission anyway. Herbert didn’t ask Dan before he brought stolen body parts and hospital equipment into their home, so why should he bother.

He didn’t expect Herbert to follow him. He’d expected the argument to be over the moment he backed down, that was when they were usually over. No one ever won. They were both so opposed to the other’s point of view that they would never come to a true understanding, no one way of thinking would ever come out on top. Instead things would just return to a simmer until they eventually boiled over again. He had expected Herbert to crawl down into the basement like the damn cockroach he was. There were new supplies and the fact that he was ignoring them was suspicious in and of itself.

Dan ignored him. He wasn’t in the mood to continue the discussion and dissection of his compassionate ‘bleeding’ heart. Asking why he was being followed would be tempting fate, though Herbert would probably make up some bullshit about having to eat like Dan is always telling him, twisting his caring nature back at him again. He put the kitten down again and pulled a small plate from the cupboard. Herbert went through the motions of making coffee besides him, ever since he’d kicked the reagent he had turned to coffee. Dan tried to shake the deceptively warm feeling of pride in his so-called partner. He had to remind himself that Herbert’s sobriety was one of the many little concessions that Herbert had granted Dan, some little display of humanity to make sure that Dan would stay. Shamefully, he couldn’t say that it didn’t work.

Shaking his head, trying to get out the thought of Herbert doing anything for him, Dan opened a can of tuna and scraped it out onto the plate. It was an awful line of thought. Every time Herbert did something for him it was easy to trace the motivation back to something selfish. Herbert had never really done anything just for Dan, though Dan wasn’t sure whether he really wanted such a thing, maybe it would be nice to know that there really was a heart beating in Herbert’s chest.

Maybe this could be the one thing that Herbert did for him.

“Don’t kill this cat,” Dan said as he crouched, petting the small fragile creature as it chewed on the tuna he’d set on the floor, he stared up at Herbert as his fingers continued through the dark fur. It was same colour as Herbert’s hair.

“I didn’t kill Rufus,” Herbert stated flatly, as though it was an indisputable fact.

“I didn’t say you did,” Dan replied, though he kind of had just without using those specific words, “just don’t kill this one, or try to do any experiments on it, and it stays out of the basement,” he added, he felt like someone’s dad laying down the law.

“I wouldn’t dream of killing your pet Dan,” Herbert said, as though butter wouldn’t melt.

Dan doubted that, but arguing that point would lead them in circles again. Instead of saying anything, he continued to stroke the kitten and waited for Herbert to leave.

* * *

In the morning, Dan took the kitten to the vets and then rooted around a pet shop that was close by. He got all the right supplies he remembered from when he’d first gotten Rufus. It strangely reminded him of his supply runs for Herbert, he wished it didn’t.

The cute young blonde at the counter cooed at the kitchen, now named Oscar, as it mewled in the brand new carry-case. It smelt distinctly of plastic. Dan supposed that he would have been whining too if he had to sit in there. The short and kind of flirty chat with the cashier was a welcome breath of fresh air. He was almost lost in the way she tilted her head, the way she tucked her chin in when she blushed, making sure that their hands brushed as she passed him the receipt. It was kind of pathetic how thrilling it was.

It had been a while since he’d been with anyone. He’d had a few flings and short lived romantic endeavours throughout his last few years of medical school, at first it had felt like he was cheating, half haunted by Meg’s ghost. Eventually that feeling had faded, but it seemed to take everything else with it. The thrill and warmth had run out and Dan couldn’t see a point in it anymore.

There hadn’t been anyone in Peru, though the feelings between him and Francesca were obviously mutual, war wasn’t the best place for a budding romance. Getting stabbed had put an end to that anyway.

The less he saw of women, though Dan was sure that anyone would be seen as a distraction, the more agreeable Herbert seemed.

Maybe Herbert would see Oscar as a distraction, Dan thought as he strapped the seatbelt over the carrying case. He didn’t know whether he could handle opening the fridge to find the stiff little body of Oscar. That wouldn’t happen. Herbert wouldn’t wait so long this time and somehow that was worse. The thought of coming home to a deranged kitten chewing on the morbid atrocities in the basement was a little more than he could take. He switched the radio on and tried to clear his mind as he drove home.

* * *

When he was finally able to pull himself away from the hospital that night, Dan thankfully did not arrive home to find any of the things that had been weighing on his mind since that morning. Instead he found a sight he hadn’t dared dream of seeing. Dan approached the scene before him as quietly as he could. Herbert was passed out on the couch, which in itself was a novelty, a large anatomy book was discarded on the cushions beside him as Oscar lied sleeping in his lap.

Dan wished he had a Polaroid camera, or a camera in general, just something that could capture this once in a lifetime moment.

Herbert’s glasses were skewed across his face and his head was laid against the back of the couch. His white button up shirt was just as rumpled as it usually was, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his tie lied limply against his torso. The gummy soles of his shoes were clear to see from the way Herbert’s legs were sprawled out in front of him. One hand was splayed across the pages of the book while the other laid in his lap, Oscar was snuggled into the crook of Herbert’s elbow and against his stomach.

If Dan didn’t know any better, the image before him might have been cute.

Dan supposed that Herbert had only meant to check something quickly in the vast textbook beside him and the ever encroaching spectre of exhaustion had grasped his lithe form and yanked him down into slumber. Dan had seen it happen so many times. Herbert’s work ethic was nothing if not impressive, but it was also recklessly destructive. Sometimes Herbert would slump in his seat or sprawl against his notes, face in his papers, Herbert or Dan’s voice whirring out of the tape recorder. Thankfully Dan hadn’t yet found him passed out in a cadaver.

Some nights, when they were pouring over notes and Dan was half asleep himself, Herbert’s body would slowly slump against his own. Those nights Dan would let the other man’s warmth seep into skin through their shirts. Those nights, Dan would let the touch linger, unwilling to disturb what little rest Herbert would allow himself. Besides, it was nice to feel someone against him, to feel that Herbert was alive.

Working on top of each other hadn’t been an issue since before Peru. Whilst in the middle of a battlefield, surrounded by the mutilated corpses of war casualties and the casualties of their experiments, there was no room for personal space. Not that Herbert had ever cared about boundaries before.

Dan considered joining him on the couch. He was bone tired from a long and exhausting shift and the thought of having a quick nap was enticing. Though he knew Herbert wouldn’t stay put, he would wake up the moment Dan lowered himself onto the cushions, and would ask him just what he thought he was doing. It was a nice fantasy though. Well, it would have been if Herbert’s eyes hadn’t had shot open like so many things they had watched rise from the dead.

Before Dan’s sluggish mind could come up with anything to stammer out, Herbert spoke.

“Are you in the habit of observing others while they sleep Daniel?” Herbert asked, brow arched as he stared up at Dan.

“I feel like I’ve just witnessed a miracle is all,” Dan replied, shrugging as he decided not to mention the kitten that was still curled into the crook of Herbert’s elbow.

“I would have thought, after everything we’ve witnessed together, that you wouldn’t believe in such fantasies,” Herbert muttered, clearly hiding his disorientation as he slid his eyes around the room.

“It’s a turn of phrase Herbert,” Dan sighed. He watched the gentle way that Herbert took Oscar from his lap and placed the kitten on the floor, Dan tried not to be surprised by the delicate handling or at least tried not to show it on his face.

“It’s a poor turn of phrase,” Herbert said, “what’s the time?” He asked, eyes piercing Dan, skewering the other man where he stood.

“Past midnight,” Dan replied vaguely despite the fact that the both of them were wearing watches.

Herbert huffed and rose from the couch. He shuffled out of the room and instead of going straight to the basement, like Dan expected, he went into the bathroom. Dan was left staring at where Herbert had been. Oscar did lazy figure-eights around and between his legs. Dan looked down and tried to forget the moment where he had considered his maniacal friend adorable.

He picked the cat up off of the floor and went into the kitchen.

Though Herbert’s reign of terror wasn’t allowed to leave the basement, Dan felt its filth all over the house, a house that used to be a funeral home. The place had been covered in dust when they had first moved in. Dan had spent an entire day turning it into some kind of liveable, while Herbert set up the lab in the basement. It kind of made Dan feel like a housewife.

Just as Dan was about to set the cat down to feed it he found another surprise, he saw that there were little dregs of tuna left stuck to the small plate that sat next to the water bowl. Herbert had fed Oscar.

For a second, though not exactly uncharitably considering everything Dan had witnessed, he wondered if Herbert had poisoned the cat. Then he wondered if he would find something that crossed the line down in the basement. Dan couldn’t imagine what that would be, they had done so many things already that Dan used to think he would never allow, things he would never actively help someone do let alone cover up and lie about. If Herbert had done something that would turn Dan away from him, then feeding the cat was a pretty low effort thing to do. Though it was a start, Dan thought pathetically.

If there was something in the basement that Herbert felt the need to apologise for, in his own stunted and manipulative way, then Dan figured he might as well eat before he faced whatever fresh horror Herbert had waiting for him.

Whilst he was re-heating day old leftovers, coffee he didn’t exactly want to drink in his hand, he heard Herbert leave the bathroom and disappeared down into the basement. This wasn’t what Dan wanted to be doing on a Friday night after work. When he’d come home, Dan had the expectation of taking a shower, having something to eat, joining Herbert in the basement for maybe an hour or so and then going to bed.

If Dan was being honest with himself, which he usually wasn’t, then he might have said that he wanted to come home to food already made and a warm body that wasn’t Herbert sweating through his rumpled and stained shirt, maybe a particular person that Dan tried not to think about because it was still too painful.

And if he was being completely and wholly honest with himself, then Dan would have said that he wanted to rewind time and sit on the couch next to Herbert. Dan tried not to be honest with himself. If he ever was honest with himself, then he would have to reckon with the things he had done and the things he had let slide throughout his time with Herbert. He would have to reckon with his fondness for the man and how he had let that effect his decisions.

Maybe there was a time where he was waiting for Herbert to change, to show some sort of humanity that Dan would recognise. He couldn’t make that excuse anymore.

Dan finished off the leftovers and, begrudgingly, made his way down into the basement. He took his time on the stairs, trying to brace himself for whatever Herbert had waiting for him, bare hands on the cold railing. Halfway down, Dan scanned his eyes across the room. As far as he could see, there wasn’t anything he wasn’t expecting. An iguana stared at him from the far corner. Herbert opened the fridge, still unaware of Dan’s presence. From where he stood, Dan could see the contents of the fridge from over Herbert’s shoulder, there was nothing in there besides the usual tubes of reagent and blood bags.

“You fed the cat,” Dan said, watching Herbert flit around the room from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes,” Herbert said, clipped.

“Why?” Dan asked, brows raised as he continued to stare at Herbert’s back.

“Because it required sustenance,” Herbert replied, as though it went without saying, as though Herbert didn’t frequently forget to feed himself. “I thought you would have been displeased if I had left it to starve,” Herbert said, finally turning to face Dan, “was I wrong?” He asked, again turning his hard bug eyed stare on Dan.

“No,” Dan said, ignoring the urge to run his fingers through his hair, “I’m just surprised.”

“Hmm,” Herbert hummed. His eyes scanned Dan’s face, as though he was searching for something, clearly he didn’t have a reply ready. It was refreshing to catch Herbert off guard for once. “Well, you asked me not to kill it.”

“Yeah, I did,” Dan murmured, feeling the itch to push his hands into his pockets.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to help me complete our work?” Herbert asked, brow pointedly arched as he stared up at Dan, blinking like his not quite so precious iguanas.

Dan had long ago let go of the idea that the work was ever going to be finished. The near constant setbacks, everything that had occurred during the Miskatonic Massacre, the drudgery of their final years in school, the never ending horror that was their time in Peru, it had all worn him down. And yet he’d stayed. He didn’t want to think about what that meant, what it said about him.

“Well?” Herbert urged, tearing Dan from his thoughts.

“Sure Herbert,” Dan replied and moved further into the basement. He followed Herbert around their unofficial lab for the next two hours before calling it a night and crashing face down on his bed, like a corpse dropped onto the mattress.

* * *

Dan relished his days off. Days when he was free from the shackles of the blasphemy that they committed in the basement, or the man so wholly focused on battling death that it was often hard to discern his humanity, those days were bittersweet bliss. Those were days that Dan struggled to enjoy.

Those days held a kind of forced simplicity. He lied in, now with the added affection of Oscar bumping his shaky kitten body against his elbow. Oscar followed him into the kitchen. The kitten mewled as he brewed his coffee and prepared the cat’s food. It was a small comfort to take care of something living again, at least something living that didn’t talk back or fight against any effort to keep it alive. Herbert wasn’t his pet but he sure felt like Dan’s responsibility.

He made himself toast and scrambled eggs and enjoyed the noisy company of Oscar, who was all but inhaling the small plate of cat food. It was nice to just sit there at the table and take his time with his meagre breakfast.

Once breakfast was over, Dan took a shower. He didn’t have the heart to lock Oscar out of the bathroom. The kitten sniffed around the room as Dan undressed and switched the shower on. Since Herbert wasn’t around there was no need to worry about wasting hot water, though Herbert had never complained about it, good manners were just second nature to him.

He spent the rest of the day sat in front of the television. Laid out on the couch watching terrible soap operas as he ran his fingers through Oscar’s fur, trying to forget or at least not think about the state of his life.

All the while, there would be a buzzing in the back of Dan’s mind. He wouldn’t deny that he was easy to appeal to; he certainly wouldn’t be where he was if he wasn’t, but there had to be a point. There had to be some sort of line that he wouldn’t cross. It also wasn’t lost on him that he was looking for Herbert to convince him. In a way he had always been looking for Herbert to convince him, since that first night, he really wanted to believe in Herbert and the work that they had lost years to.

Dan looked down at Oscar and the cat looked back at him. Its round bright eyes filled with intrigue and excitement reminded him of a particular air of hazel eyes, Herbert was always looking at the world or at least his work as though he were seeing everything for the first time. It was one of the most charming things about him. Dan wondered if that would always be enough, or if the shine would wear out on that too.

* * *

The sound of the door being slammed shut ripped Dan out of a peaceful and thankfully dreamless slumber. He rocketed up into a sitting position just in time to watch the sly smirk slide off of Herbert’s face. Of course he’d done it on purpose. Oscar, no longer in Dan’s lap, was rubbing his face against Herbert’s ankle.

“What?” Dan asked as Herbert continued to stand there by the door.

“You know I’m not your errand boy Daniel,” Herbert began, as though they were simply picking up in the middle of a conversation, Dan struggled to grasp what Herbert was getting at and decided to wait for the other man to continue. “If I’m expected to pass messages between you and your harem then I’ll be expecting payment,” he eventually finished.

“What?” Dan repeated as he ran a hand down his face, the word harem stuck in his mind.

“Every nurse, female doctor and patient has been asking after you,” Herbert clarified, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, most of them know that we live together Herbert, they’re just making polite conversation,” Dan said, he tried not to laugh, he felt sorry for anyone who had tried to talk to Herbert. It seemed that he was only inclined to endure Dan’s presence alone and sometimes even that proved to be too much.

“Polite conversation and small talk are dull inanities that are a waste of my time,” Herbert stated, his eyes flicked down to the Oscar as the cat began to mewl at him, he frowned.

“I know,” Dan murmured.

“I just wish you wouldn’t encourage them,” Herbert said, now staring down at Oscar, Dan was far more interested in what Herbert might do than wherever this conversation was leading.

“I’m not dating anyone, or being distracted from the work, I don’t see why a few women trying to talk to you has got you so bent out of shape,” Dan said as he rose from the couch, he figured he should probably feed the cat or at least move it away from Herbert’s feet.

“Dan,” Herbert said derisively, “you can’t be within five feet of a woman without trying to seduce them, I doubt you even realise what you’re doing do you?”

“I’m just being friendly,” Dan said, sure he’d always seen himself as being at least half way decent with the opposite sex but he wouldn’t go as far to say that he was a master seducer, though he doubted that Herbert knew the difference or cared. He really was just being friendly.

He gathered Oscar into his arms and made for the kitchen, the cat had grown so much in the short weeks they’d had him.

“Hmm,” Herbert hummed as Dan passed him.

Dan should have known better than to take the bait by now, but he didn’t.

“What now?” Dan asked, turning on his heels to face Herbert again, and Oscar began to struggle in his grasp.

“I wish you wouldn’t be so nice to everyone,” Herbert said in a rare display of honesty.

“I wish you would be nicer,” Dan returned, though he couldn’t quite fathom what a ‘nicer’ version of Herbert would look like but he’d take a please and thank you with his demands at the very least. He set the cat down on floor and waited for Herbert’s expected reply. 

“I have no need for other people,” Herbert said curtly, predictably. Just because it was predictable didn’t mean that Dan could stand such a statement.

“Oh, so I’m not a person?” Dan asked, his volume edged toward a shout, and threw his hands in the air as he stared Herbert down.

“You’re the exception Dan,” Herbert said, voice steady and even, “I thought that much would have been obvious,” he added, from the corner of his mouth as he looked away from Dan, clearly embarrassed to have to say something almost sentimental.

“Heh,” Dan huffed, unable to keep the sound in his throat.

“What?” Herbert asked, his head whipped back and his eyes met Dan’s again.

“I knew there were emotions in there somewhere,” Dan said as a smile crawled across his mouth.

“I’ve never denied feeling emotions Daniel,” Herbert said, sneering at Dan’s smile, clearly he took offense to Dan’s reaction to his not exactly heartfelt declaration, “I simply do not let them control my thoughts and actions,” he added with disdain, speaking as though he were ruled by logic alone.

“Sure you don’t,” Dan muttered and made his way into the kitchen. It didn’t matter what Herbert said, Dan had already won, he’d gotten the most stoic and emotionally stunted person he knew to admit to having some form of affection for him.

“Do not mistake usefulness and desired skills for anything approaching friendly affection,” Herbert said, tone harsh as he stood by the fridge, jaw and neck muscles straining under his indignation. Dan could feel those sharp eyes on his back as he prepared Oscar’s food and changed his water.

“Surely there are other people out who would be just as useful, if not more so, than me,” Dan rationalised, his back was still to Herbert as he bent down to set the food and water on the floor. Oscar trilled as he trotted toward the fresh food.

“There might be, certainly, but it’s not worth the time and effort it would take to find such a person, especially when I already have you,” Herbert said, every word punched out of his throat, clearly defensive.

“You have me do you?” Dan asked, finally turning to look at Herbert. His heart was in his throat. He was almost certain that Herbert had not meant it the way he had heard it, but that didn’t stop the reaction that shot through his body.

Herbert pressed his lips into a firm line as he stared back at Dan, his arms were wrapped around himself, and the harsh kitchen lights glinted off of his glasses. He looked like he would bolt at any moment.

“I’m not as useful as I was when we first met,” Dan began, sticking to the facts so he could trap Herbert in his own logic, “I don’t have the connections I had back then and I’m not as well respected as I used to be, considering the things my name is attached to,” he went on, slow and steady as Herbert continued to silently watch him.

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short Dan,” Herbert said, voice soft and placating. His manipulation was verbal smoke and mirrors, sleight of tongue.

“I’m not, I’m just being realistic,” Dan said, hands open as he leaned against the counter.

“What does it matter to you, anyway?” Herbert asked, his face scrunched up in adorable confusion, at least that was what Dan’s treacherous mind thought.

“It matters because you clearly want me around, beg and plead with me every time I try to leave,” Dan began, folding his arms over his chest, “what use is an unwilling assistant?”

“But you’re not unwilling,” Herbert sneered, lip curling in that way that Dan wished he didn’t enjoy.

“Do you think there might be a reason, beyond the possibility of ‘conquering death’, that I stick around?” Dan asked, maybe being vulnerable, opening up in some sort of way, would help Herbert admit to feeling something similar no matter how small.

“Such as?” Herbert asked, brow arched over the rim of his glasses.

Of course the idea that Dan genuinely enjoyed Herbert’s company, had grown some sort of attachment to him was beyond anything that Herbert could comprehend.

“Because I give a damn about you, personally,” Dan said, he meant to say more but Herbert beat him to it. That was what he got for hesitating.

“Just like you care about the cat,” Herbert returned, showing the crooked bottom row of teeth.

“Huh?” Dan asked, lost for words. Herbert so frequently made him lost for words. “What does this have to do with Oscar?” He asked, flicking his eyes down to the cat and then back to Herbert.

“Oh come now,” Herbert said, dropping his arms to step forward, “you see me as nothing more than a stray that walked in the moment you needed me,” he went on, only stopping to wet his lips before he continued, “you need to put all those feelings somewhere I suppose.”

“That’s not-“

“Don’t deny it, I see the pitiful looks you send me, as though I need assistance just to function,” Herbert went on, unrelenting, as though he had struck the right nerve when he’d only glanced it, as though he could frustrate Dan into compliance or at least out of this conversation. _Says the man who forgets to eat, sleep and shower_ , Dan thought. “You look at me just like you look at those floosies, like you looked at Meg or that damned cat,” he added, finally landing on the right nerve, jamming a finger against Dan’s chest.

Dan batted Herbert’s hand away, lest the smaller man feel the racing of his heart.

“Herbert, I don’t know what you’re getting at, but you’re my friend,” Dan said, though friend didn’t quite seem to cut it, it didn’t explain the lengths Dan had gone for Herbert, it didn’t explain how he’d jumped to Herbert’s defence even when he knew better, even after everything Dan had lost because of him.

“Friend?” Herbert asked, head tilted to the side, not unlike the quizzical gaze of a cat Dan noted with frustrated irritation.

“Do you think I’d still be here if I didn’t care, if I didn’t have some kind of…affection for you?” Dan asked in return, almost pleading.

“It’s the work that convinces you Dan, you’re just looking for sentimentality wherever you can get it,” Herbert muttered, his hand flicked out between them flippantly.

Dan could hardly believe it. Did Herbert really mean it, was he so blind, was he so unused to someone else caring about him that he couldn’t conceive that Dan’s feelings were for him alone and not some misplaced leftovers from Meg. He didn’t know what to say.

“You’re insufferable,” Dan huffed, pushing his hands through his hair in frustration.

“And yet you’ve been ‘suffering’ me for several years,” Herbert said, smirking up at Dan, “so it would seem that I am, in fact, sufferable,” he went on pedantically.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Dan said with a sigh, dropping his hands against his sides.

“I wouldn’t have to say such things if you always said what you meant,” Herbert shot back, snippily.

Dan wasn’t thinking about saying anything. All words had left his mind, and it wasn’t like Herbert ever listened to a damn thing he said anyway, instead of useless words Dan chose action. He grabbed Herbert by the shoulders. It was a familiar touch, and he was certain that Herbert was expecting to be shaken and yelled at, but he leaned down and brought their lips together instead.

It was a short and somewhat chaste thing. Dan pulled away but barely by an inch, pressed their foreheads together and felt Herbert breathe against him, as his mind struggled to catch up to what his body had already done.

In a way, Dan had known that things were always leading here. He had overlooked so much, had jumped to Herbert’s defence time and time again, he’d been pulled in almost instantly and now he was trapped. Dan knew he wasn’t really trapped. He could leave, he could hand Herbert over to the authorities and save himself, but that would mean losing Herbert. He could barely entertain the thought. His grip on Herbert tightened, he heard the man swallow beneath him, the soft clicking of his throat rattled through Dan’s mind. Dan had heard that shaky click before, it took him straight back to that sweltering tent in Peru.

There was a scar on his stomach. A scar that might have, if Dan was being woefully romantic, symbolised their relationship. Something jagged and cloying, something painful, something that bled, something that had to be stitched together, something that had to heal but still left its mark. They were both changed, both scarred, by the things they had done together and to each other. They would never be who they were before they met. And surely their separation would tear the wound anew.

“You’re not a cat Herbert, you’re not just someone to hold for the night or whatever image you’ve got in your head,” Dan said, rubbing circles into Herbert’s shoulders as he spoke, “you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” he continued, pulling back the awe he truly felt, Herbert didn’t need his ego stroked.

“So it’s simply because I’m different,” Herbert said, unable to hide the quake in his voice, “it’s the novelty you find attractive.”

Dan kissed him again, just to shut him up, fingers digging into the flesh of Herbert’s arms. He didn’t know how to explain what Herbert did to him. Herbert was a black hole. His excitement was infectious and addictive, and Dan couldn’t help but be sucked in.

Herbert wasn’t unresponsive, not the wooden board that Dan had expected, and instead he moved with Dan and mimicked him. Dan’s suspicions of Herbert’s inexperience were all but confirmed, though the man proved to be a quick study.

“I find you attractive,” Dan murmured against Herbert’s pink lips and kissed him once more.

“And what about what I think?” Herbert asked. He leant back, creating some distance between them, but didn’t try to break out of Dan’s hold.

“What do you think?” Dan asked, sliding his hands down the Herbert’s elbows. “Why do you keep me around?”

Dan watched as Herbert’s face twitched, his brows came down in a look of pained concentration as he arranged his answer, and Dan began to wonder if it would ever come when Herbert finally opened his mouth.

“I’ve already mentioned-“

“Herbert, you don’t have to burst a blood vessel,” Dan muttered, interrupting Herbert, he would have laughed if it wasn’t so frustrating, “just, out with it,” he added. He wasn’t thrilled about having to force the words out of Herbert. There was something, clearly, that Dan didn’t know that stopped Herbert from showing any sort of vulnerability but Dan had shown so much of himself.

“I suppose it would be foolish of me to deny that I have some sort of affection for you,” Herbert said, fingers toying with the frayed hem of Dan’s sweater.

Dan couldn’t have stopped the smile that spread across his face even if he had wanted to. He leaned in again, but this time Herbert met him half way, and moved eagerly against him. Fingers slid into his hair, nails scraped against his scalp. Dan released a shuddering breath against Herbert’s lips.

He felt something move against his leg, at first he thought that Herbert might be taking some initiative, but then the mewling began. Oscar was bumping his face against both of their legs. Herbert grumbled something about the small beast under his breath that was barely audible.

“You’ve been fed, what do you want now?” Herbert muttered, a little louder, and Dan couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think he wants attention,” Dan said and kissed Herbert’s cheek just because he could. He figured that he’d be doing that a lot now, just because he could, whenever he could. The floodgates had finally broken. All that pent up tension between them, tension that Dan had barely recognised, was now let loose and Dan didn’t think he’d ever cage it again.

“Not unlike your owner then,” Herbert said to Oscar as he stepped back to bend down and capture the cat awkwardly in his hands. He looked into its eyes. Oscar had taken to Herbert far better than Rufus had. Rufus had scuttled out of the room the moment Herbert entered or started to hiss at the sight of him, Oscar showed a keen interest in and some form of affection for Herbert. “I suppose the both of you will be bothering me for affection now, hmm?” Herbert said, face to face with the cat, he flicked his eyes up to look at Dan over Oscar’s head. 

“You already think that I’m bothering you when I try to get you to eat or sleep, things you need to do to live,” Dan said, still smiling as he ran a hand through his hair. “Anything besides the work is a distraction,” he added, watching as Herbert put the cat back down, he wasn’t as gentle as Dan would have been himself but it was more than Dan expected.

“Don’t act all innocent Danny,” Herbert said, crouching beside the cat as he petted it, looking up at Dan.

It sure was a sight, to see Herbert not quite on his knees in front of him, those big hazel eyes blinking up at him. The nickname was a little more than Dan could handle too. Herbert had called him that before, derisively, mockingly. It hadn’t short circuited his mind like it did then, leaving him speechless as he stared down at Herbert.

“Cat got your tongue Daniel?” Herbert asked, smirking as he rose again.

“Innocent?” Dan said pointing to himself, blinking back at Herbert, his palms felt clammy. He suddenly got the urge to pull on his collar and suppressed it. Dan wondered when he’d lost the upper hand, if he’d ever had it, Herbert had a way of making Dan feel off balance and dizzy.

“I’m sure that lost puppy look has gotten you far with lots of women,” Herbert said, palm curled against Dan’s cheek, condescendingly affectionate, “well I’ve been around you long enough to know,” he added, rubbing his thumb up and down Dan’s cheekbone. “I won’t be like them Daniel, you’ve got to know that,” Herbert went on, stepping further into Dan’s space, crowding him against the kitchen counter.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dan said irreverently, he wouldn’t still be here if this wasn’t what he wanted.

Dan was already so far gone, so deep down the rabbit hole of never ending horror, what were a few feet more? Herbert kissed him again, hands on Dan’s shoulders for leverage, those pink lips soft against his own. Oscar meowed again. Dan’s head was spinning and he laughed against Herbert’s lips. It wasn’t perfect, nowhere near. It was a precarious, dangerous, terrifying existence, but for the first time in a long time Dan was happy and for now that was more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first dive into Re-Animator I hope you enjoyed. Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading! You can catch me on tumblr @ theweakestthing (though I'm barely there these days) and twitter @ th_weakestthing


End file.
